


late santa

by teumefromthesea (itsbluexx)



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Santa Claus, Family Drama, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsbluexx/pseuds/teumefromthesea
Summary: [ Santa Claus AU ]Once upon a time, there lived a Santa who was always late in delivering Christmas gifts. Instead of December 25th, the Santa, who was known as Santa Jihoon, came down the chimney the next day instead, December 26th, much to the children's dismay.That, until the one reside in Heaven gave him a new list of Nice Children, and in result, an encounter with one lonely kid.
Relationships: Choi Hyunsuk/Park Jihoon
Comments: 43
Kudos: 88





	late santa

**Author's Note:**

> Do read the story with open mind. 
> 
> Avoid taking the subjects being referenced and mentioned throughout the story seriously and/or compare them to other depictions/beliefs, instead take them as my own personal interpretation of the subjects, incorporated in a harmless, light fan fiction. Thank you.

Once upon a time, there lived a Santa was who always late in delivering Christmas gifts. Instead of December 25th, the Santa, who was known as Santa Jihoon, came down the chimney the next day instead, December 26th, much to the children's dismay.

"You're late again, Santa!"

Santa Jihoon rolled his eyes, _here we go again_. 

A twin, girls of six-years-old, Caucasians and blonde, wearing matching baby blue pajamas, similar to the eerie girls from _The Shining_ -yes, Jihoon still remembered some of the worldly pleasure- because both were scowling and tapping their itty bitty feet on the living room carpet as they welcomed Jihoon's late arrival.

The house was considerably warm in contrast to how heavy the snow fell in the area. The walls were made of woods and stone and silence. Well, to be fair it was almost midnight, shown by the grandfather clock placed in the corner of the living room, side to side with a cheery, blinking Christmas tree. The house was Jihoon's last stop before he ascended to Heaven, no, not dying (again), just going home to his bed.

Jihoon didn't have time to straighten his wrinkled and dusty red clothes resulted from squeezing his 30-ish years-old body into a chimney corridor only fit for one Siberian Husky, along with the big red sack of gifts he had to bring along, when one of the girls stormed at him, snarling.

"Why are you always late, Santa Jihoon?"

"Yeah! Last year we got another Santa and he came right on time!" The other chimed in, joining the fun commotion of bullying Santa Jihoon.

The victim could only sigh, "Look, girls, life's rough in Heaven. I had to pull all-nighters to prepare the gifts, and there are thousands! _Thousands_ , I tell you! The elves only did a bare minimum, that bunch of no-gooder, so you gotta cut Santa Jihoon some slack, 'kay?"

The twin still had their mouth curved downward, disappointed, but Jihoon used to deal with upset kids, he's been dealing with them for five years, so he ignored the death glares and opened the big ol' bag instead.

Instantly, their expressions changed into one of giddy.

"So you girls still want your gifts or what?"

" _Yes!_ " The twin exclaimed quite loud, jumping up and down, excited.

Santa Jihoon immediately shushed them quietly, "Hey, no shouting or you wake your parents!"

The twin shushed each other, copying the Santa's gesture, before breaking into small giggles.

Again, Santa Jihoon sighed, though he lied if the sight of happy children, peering into the red magic bag, impatiently waiting for their gifts, didn't create a fluttering, warm feeling. He never thought he would've liked this Santa gig that Heaven bestowed him, but as the twins, fluffy hairs and pink cheeks, received the gifts -two blue box wrapped in white ribbon- and opened them to reveal a matching school bag, complete with their name tags and knitted dolls as a keychain, shrieked in joy as they thanked Santa and ran around the room, giggling, and wearing their brand new bag, Jihoon thought--

_Hey, it's better than being reincarnated as a reindeer._

Parked on the roof, Rudolf and its cousins sneezed in unison.

-

As you might've guessed by now, yes, Santa Jihoon died once as a human.

No need to get sad and dramatic, though, it was only death; inevitable and pre-determined, a fate no living beings will ever escape. So the first words that greeted him after a flash of white engulfed his vision and consciousness were--

"Welcome back, son."

Santa Jihoon, who had the name of Park Jihoon back then, tried to open his eyes. It was quite a struggle; his lids felt heavy and mind so drowsy yet his body is light, like he was sleeping on clouds for billions of years since the universe first created and no one ever woke him up,

until now.

"You can open your eyes, son."

"Uh, yeah, well, it's kinda hard, can I just go back to sleep?"

A sigh, coming from the voice; Jihoon couldn't decipher the identity or gender, but it echoed, through his eardrums and under his skin like a ripple in the water. The voice was ringing from every direction, up-down-right-left, like a thousand people speaking at once, and it both confused and scared Jihoon at the same time.

"No need to be afraid, son. You are simply home."

Well, it seemed the voice could even hear his thoughts.

"Yes, I can, son, so please open your eyes. You hold up a line here, there are approximately 100,010,010 people I need to greet after you."

Jihoon almost let out a snicker; whoever the voice was they got an attitude, he liked it. For that alone, the man determined to give his best. He scrunched his eyes tight, one second, two seconds, before fluttering them open, ever slowly, and like a window curtain being drawn up to reveal a sunny morning in Spring,

there was a light, blindingly bright,

bombarding Jihoon's vision like prickling needles right through his eyes, but there was no pain or blood, only warmth-- the kind of warmth similar to the first cradle of a parent when their baby was born as the light blanketed Jihoon's figure, hair to feet, before it dimmed,

a flicker, then altogether,

and revealed a room, boundless, no doors or walls, Jihoon couldn’t see the end at all, there was only an empty space of white surrounded him as he stood in the middle, alone and naked, though he felt no shame. He checked his footing; the ground was solid and soft at the same time, like a mattress, he could try to bounce on it if he wanted-- actually he _was_ considering to before the earlier voice rang again right on time, as if to stopped him.

"You always were a mischievous child, Park Jihoon."

The voice boomed around Jihoon, a frequency without a source. This time Jihoon didn't feel afraid, simply curious. He searched around, trying to find a person with a megaphone or speakers, but he found none.

"You cannot see me, Park Jihoon--"

"Yeah, I reckon," Jihoon cut in, scratching his blonde hair, cocking an eyebrow to air, "So, like, are you what I think you are?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Jihoon mulled over for a moment, "That means I'm--"

"Yes."

"Huh." Jihoon knitted his eyebrows together, bringing a finger to his chin as he tried to recall his life before; his jobs, house, family, but there were holes, like damaged film rolls burned by gasoline, and worst, about how or where he died, Jihoon couldn't remember &*^%.

"Wait, what?" Jihoon blinked, puzzled, because there was a gap in his train of thought just now. He repeated the earlier sentence in his head and it had the same result.

"Wait, what the *^$#?"

Jihoon gasped; one hand covered his mouth, now it happened as he spoke! A buzzing gap that filled-in the supposedly--

"This is Heaven, Park Jihoon, cuss words are automatically censored here."

Jihoon's mouth couldn't stay close, fully amazed with the technology Heaven installed here. He couldn't remember how he died but earlier, Jihoon recalled his job as an IT Manager and so far, no company had developed such tools, so, curious as he was, the man tried again, just to make sure.

"*&^%," Jihoon let out a laugh, clapping to himself.

"^#@%^#$#@&&@%^^#%%!!"

"Are you _done_ , son?"

The voice shook the room, a small tremble like an earthquake. Jihoon took it as his cue to shut up.

"Park Jihoon, your life on Earth has ended and you have come home to Heaven. You have been good, you have been bad, you have lived your best until your last. On most times, you have given laughs and spread happiness to your loved ones and others as your soul is young and playful, bright and colorful--"

There was a tingling feeling inside Jihoon's chest, of delight and satisfaction, similar to when children being praised by their parents for a high score in a math quiz. Oh, Jihoon once did _that_ , a memory from his school years surged back all too suddenly.

"--therefore, I bestow you a duty befitting of your soul. Park Jihoon, from now on you will be known as Santa Jihoon. Along with other Santa, you will bring gifts of happiness to children in need every Christmas Day."

Jihoon gaped, not really sure he heard it right because did the voice really ordered him to be a _Santa_?

"You want to be a reindeer instead?"

"Uh, oh, no, please, no," Jihoon stuttered, nervous, because the thought of being transformed into an animal was definitely a lot worse than being transformed into a bulky, white guy with a beard wearing a red pajama 24/7.

The voice sighed, seemingly tired, "No, son, I will not transform you into a white guy. Every child will see you according to their imagination of what Santa is, not as you are. Adults will not see or hear you at all. Unless."

The voice suddenly paused.

Jihoon tilted his head, confused, waiting for the rest of the explanation but there was only silence for a brief while, and the next time the voice spoke, it almost sounded-- _amused_. 

"Well, you have to find out yourself, Santa Jihoon. Good luck."

"Wha-- what? What do you mean?" Jihoon panicked, but the light was back, radiant and holy, consuming the newly appointed Santa until he saw, heard, and felt nothing.

-

"Welcome back, Santa Jihoon!"

Two elves greeted Jihoon as soon as he got off the glossy-painted red sleigh, parked at the edge of a long row of sleighs, belonged to a million other Santa. Jihoon brushed Rudolf's head, thanking its service, before carried the empty red sack over his shoulder.

The elves, a small humanlike creature with pointy ears and big eyes -their full height on par with Jihoon's waist- wearing the same obnoxious glittery red and white striped jumpsuit with green cap Jihoon been seen for five years now, smiled and yapped as they ticked a checklist in their note.

"Now all Santa has come home! They're home!" One elf chirped, it has blue bob hair like cotton candy, while the other sporting red hair, braided in two.

"Yup, yup! And Santa Jihoon is always the last to come!"

"Bad Santa! Bad Santa!"

The elves giggled in glee.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Good job, me," Jihoon yawned, ignoring the little pest and strode toward the Santa Headquarter.

The building was very minimalistic, different from what Jihoon imagined when he was first transported here by the holy light of Heaven. It was built on a field of white, similar to the room Jihoon met the voice, and its structure is a square on top of a square on top a square, almost like a tower of Jenga. The walls were made of glass so even from outside, Jihoon can watch the hustle and bustle inside the building. Mostly elves, running around, holding a pile of empty gift boxes for next year Christmas, as all Santa were retired in their respective rooms.

The headquarter towered all the way up and continued even past the horizon of the vast white sky. Jihoon never located a sun since he got here, but there's always a warm light, glowing from every direction like an overexposed picture.

Jihoon stopped questioning where or what the light is, he stopped questioning a lot of things since he died, really, so he dragged his sleepy head past the glass door of the Santa Headquarter and entered the lobby.

The lobby was humble and compact; only a table, placed in the middle of the room surrounded by a wall of glasses, and one white door behind it. The table itself was wide and circular, coated with white paint. It occupied half of the room and in the center, sat the Chief Santa, buried amongst a tower of papers and opened gift boxes. For an elf (and human), the Chief was colossal, near the size of two elephants stacked together. So massive, the Chief had to hunch over to fit its body into the small space of the lobby so its head didn't break through the white ceiling.

The scene never failed to tickled Jihoon.

The Chief, wearing the same uniform as other elves, cocked an eyebrow at the late Santa, "Well, well, if it isn't Santa Jihoon."

"Aw, missed me, Chief?"

The Chief grunted, thundering and humorless, unlike other elves, "For the only late Santa ever existed in Heaven? As if, boy." The Chief rummaged through hundreds of papers laid on his table and picked one of them, "Here's the list of Nice Children and their gifts for next Christmas."

The paper was yellow-tinted and letter-size _for_ the colossal elf, but for Jihoon, it was big enough to wrap his whole body like a towel. Though, just as the years before, when the Chief threw the paper at Jihoon, as it floated down, it continuously shrank to the size of a normal human paper. Jihoon snatched it from the air and read the content.

"Huh. I see lots of new names."

"Yes, the boss single-handedly picked them, though, we shall not question the reason."

Jihoon hummed; the names, along with the description of gifts, popped out one by one in Region order. A child's name disappeared when Jihoon finished skimming it, quickly replaced by the next. If Jihoon wanted to re-read, he needed only to focus his thought, the paper would show the names according to Jihoon's will. That's how the paper could hold thousands of inscriptions for each Santa.

Jihoon let out a yawn again; time to hit the bed. He tucked the paper into his pocket, "Okay, I'll be sleeping until next year then."

It's true, Santa had no duty aside from preparing and delivering gifts. They were expected and designed to rest long until Christmas is near.

Jihoon adjusted the red sack on his shoulder and continued his way to the only door past the Chief's table when the other called, "Hey, and also, don't be late next Christmas, okay? It's been five years already! Manage your time better in preparing the gifts!"

"Alright, alright, Chief, I'll try," Jihoon waved a hand behind, half-heartedly, before opening the door.

Just as the paper, the door also followed Jihoon's will. If any other day, Jihoon could push the door and arrive at the Santa's Lounge, a 20 floors lounge where all Santa came together and traded stories of their Christmas delivery, all spoke in a different language yet everyone understood each other, or the Gift Factory, inhabited by elves, too many and annoying to count their numbers, all folding cardboards into boxes and crafting strings into ribbons.

But at the moment, Jihoon wanted his bed, so the door revealed his room instead; a square space of white walls with one part made of glass. In one corner, lies his bed, a single spring mattress covered in red silk sheet, and in another, a mountain of empty box and toys, stacked together disorganized; definitely placed by the elves so Jihoon could start boxing the gifts as soon as he woke up from his long sleep.

Jihoon put the task in the farthest corner of his mind and collapsed in his bed, chest first. He wished for the light to be dimmed and it did; the light gradually faded into dark, as if night had fallen to Jihoon's room alone even when the white sky outside shone forever bright.

As the light began to dim, so did Jihoon's consciousness.

Soon, the Santa went to a deep slumber, and the next time he awoke,

304 days had passed.

-

"Santa Jihoon! Santa Jihoon!"

Jihoon flinched; the sudden shriek almost got him brushed over the wrong part of the wooden train toy. The Santa clicked his tongue and glared at the two elves, bursting through the door, "What is it?! Stop screeching, elves! I'm working here!"

The elves, blue and red, stayed cheery as ever, bouncing around Jihoon's room like they're on a trampoline.

"Santa Jihoon, you're not done yet?"

"Today is Christmas! Christmas!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, just-- just a little more, 'kay?" Jihoon scowled, flicking his brush, drenched in yellow paint, and focused back on his task. 

The elves went quiet then, looking at each other before observing the only Santa in the room.

Jihoon was seated in the middle of the messy room; toys, boxes, ribbons scattered everywhere. Most gifts were wrapped but some were still neglected, out in the open, even though it's already two minutes into Christmas. All Santa had already loaded their red magic bag bloated with gifts into their sleighs, but then, there was Jihoon, blonde hair ruffled and a mess, squinting at the wooden train as he dotted tiny yellow stars on the train car ever so carefully, ignorant of the hundreds of toys unboxed around him.

Minutes went by when Santa Jihoon finally finished his masterpiece.

"There! Cute, right?" The proud Santa cheered, showing off the wooden train, coated with black glossy paint with a detailed decoration of stars and planets and comets as if the train rode amongst the milky way.

Beautiful,

too beautiful maybe for a three years old boy, the designated child who will receive the gift, so the blue-haired elf replied the Santa with an amused giggle.

"You know, Santa Jihoon's gifts always look nicer than the other Santa."

The red elf nods, a wide grin plastered on its face, "Uh-huh, that's because he spends too long to prepare each one! Hihihi!"

"Uh-huh, that's why no elves want to help him. He's too meticulous--"

"--And grumpy. I heard last year, Santa Jihoon barked at an elf because the gift it boxed was not complete according to Santa Jihoon, though based on the list given by the Chief, it was."

"Oooh, bad Santa! bad Santa!"

"Hey, I can _hear_ you, elves!" Jihoon howled at the little pests, though the bunch simply giggle with a higher than before. The Santa was really _this_ close to throwing the wooden train at those little bobbleheads.

But he pulled himself together, heaving a breath while recalling what really happened last year. Jihoon remembered a Caucasians twin, both jumpy and full of smiles as they wear the same pair of bags.

"Look, the gift was school bags for kids who were going to their first year of elementary, and do you know how many time kids lose their bag? Often, I tell you! Either careless or bullies, they're lurking in every corner of the school."

The elves stopped their chuckles; tilting their head at the Santa, seemingly puzzled. Santa Jihoon, who was fanning the half-dried paint of the train, continued.

"So it's reasonable to add name tags and knitted dolls to identify the bags in case they were lost or something. It's the least I could do as a Santa. I mean, if the Santa doesn't add anything to the already processed toys from the Factory, then what's the meaning of our existence? The gift wrappers? The delivery team?"

The red-haired elf pointed at the wooden train in Jihoon's hand, "Then what about this? Why did you add meaningless decoration? No child will appreciate its beauty."

Jihoon paused the fanning and gave the train a once-over, before speaking, a little wistful, "The boy's father is an astronaut, elf. He hasn't come home for two years. The kid doesn't understand the concept of rocket and space exploration, so the mother told him his father went on a journey on a train to the stars."

The air felt a little heavy then; there's an ache inside Jihoon's chest, the first since he was reborn. A throbbing that made breathing a struggle as snippets of memories flown across his mind, yet the faces displayed inside them were all blurred. One of the memories shown two figures, sitting in a living room, light blue-painted walls with matching sofas, floor made of wood, and there were dolls of various kind; a flower with a yellow face, a purple cat with blue fire on its head, but it was never enough, Jihoon knew. Because the kid with the blurred face greeted Jihoon and expected another, and Jihoon gifted him a new round doll with pointy pink ears, holding pom-pom in both hands, and the kid grinned so wide, _so_ happy. When the kid hugged the new doll tight, the last figure couldn’t help but join them and gave Jihoon a kiss on the cheek, because Jihoon always found a way to make them forgive him for being--

late.

"After all, both the kid and the mother are always waiting for the father to come back."

Jihoon didn't realize the words are out of his lips or he ever thought of them at all, as if his organs moved on their own driven by the broken memories. He quickly covered his mouth, holding its still, increasingly alarmed by the sudden flood of emotions Jihoon didn't know the source nor meanings.

Surprisingly, it was the elves' giggle that grounded Jihoon back.

"Complicated! Complicated!"

"Santa Jihoon is complicated! Unlike other Santa!"

Jihoon sighed, shoulders slumped forward, as he started to put the wooden train into an empty box. In the process, he caught hundreds and hundreds of toys that needed to be asses and wrapped, immediately, so the Santa decided to dissect the earlier recollection another time. Maybe next year.

"Better hurry up then, Santa Jihoon!"

The door slammed close; the elves finally left Jihoon alone with a stockpile of unprepared gifts. Jihoon puffed his chest, hyped himself up and started to speed up the process. A basketball, checked. Family board game, checked. A pink-painted scooter, checked.

It went on and on until the next day when the tower of toys inside Jihoon's room changed into a tower of wrapped gift boxes, sparkling in glitters and colors under the lights of the white sky.

" _Finally_ , we're on to the last! Whoo!" Jihoon shouted to no one in particular as he snatched the paper inscribed with the Nice Children's names. It instantly showed the last name along with the gift they wished for and their home address.

"Let's see, the kid's name is... Park Jeongwoo, seven years old. Huh, new name, never visit him before," Jihoon mulled over for a moment before moving to his gift. Then, he frowned. And blinked, twice. Confused. He brought the paper closer to his face, thinking he read it wrong, but no, he saw right.

"He wishes for a _late_ Santa?" The crease between Jihoon's eyebrow deepened as he questioned the meaning, "What's a late Santa? Does he just wanna see a Santa?"

Of course, this was not the first time a child wished for a Santa, storybooks and movies shaped children into believing that Santa is real, which they truly are, but usually, their wishes included a specific kind of toys too. And to make it more strange, when Jihoon searched for the last toy to boxed under the heap of gifts, he found nothing, nada, nil.

The Santa stood in the middle of the chaos, exasperated.

Christmas was already over fifteen minutes ago, and he really needed to get going or the delivery process could stretch and end on the 27th. Oh, the Chief was going to be full-on berserk the next time he saw Jihoon. 

After a brief while, Santa Jihoon made his decision.

He shrugged, "Well, I just gotta bring myself then. Ho ho ho."

The Santa tidied up his blonde hair, put on the red hat, and began his delivery.

-

Seoul in December was quite windy.

The snow was the least Jihoon's concern, they fall scarcely compared to the strong burst of air welcoming Jihoon the moment Rudolf and its cousins crossed the border into the metropolitan area. His red sleigh wobbled under the pressure before Jihoon yanked the sleigh reins, urging the reindeers to slowed down. They heeded the Santa's command, quickly stopped their galloping, and began trotting instead.

If you were a privileged child under nine-years-old and lived at the upper floors of Samsung Tower Palace, the tallest residential building in Seoul, then you could probably see a red sleigh, flying in the air, pulled by six reindeers with matching red noses, across the winter night sky and lone moon. At the driver seat, you would see a Santa, shivering and scrunching his nose because apparently, Santa wasn't immune to cold, hence the thick, furry red uniform they wore. But the Santa, Santa Jihoon, paid no mind, he gotten used to it since the second year, and kept steering the sleigh to the last destination of the late Christmas gifts delivery.

Soon, in his aerial view, Jihoon spotted the residential part of the city; blocks of houses with roofs variant from muddy green to brick red lined neatly like pieces of Lego. The Santa brought the red sleigh down bit by bit as it slid through the crisp air toward the designated address, which is a two-story house at the end of the corner, with a flat roof and a balcony. Convenient, Jihoon thought, as he parked his ride along with the reindeers on top of it.

The time was exactly an hour before midnight, soon the 26th would be over so the late Santa wasted no time to get off the sleigh and looked for a way in. If he wasn't invisible to adults and didn't wear red, one would've mistaken Jihoon for a burglar.

Thankfully, no one could notice his presence as he climbed out of the roof and into the second-floor balcony; the action was relatively easier than cramping into a dusty, house chimney, and Jihoon ever so grateful to whoever owned the place for not building it.

The sole of his red boots stomped right outside a bedroom.

There was an opened window beside a locked balcony door. Jihoon peered right through the sheer fabric of the curtain, eyes darting around to find the owner of the room. Though, to his surprise, the owner, a [boy](https://br.pinterest.com/pin/664421751268030431/?amp_client_id=CLIENT_ID\(_\)&mweb_unauth_id=%7B%7Bdefault.session%7D%7D&_url=https%3A%2F%2Fbr.pinterest.com%2Famp%2Fpin%2F696439529865110778%2F) with a bowl cut hair, was awake, sitting on the bed in the corner of the room, feet dangling as he hugged a round doll tight with head facing the window.

So it was unsurprising for the boy to immediately noticed the midnight guest standing on the balcony.

There were seconds of silence before the boy, Park Jeongwoo -Jihoon remembered his name- broke out into a wide grin and jumped out of the bed.

"Santa! Santa!" Park Jeongwoo cheered in joy, running toward the window. The big, round glasses the boy wore did nothing to hide the stars in his eyes as he looked at Jihoon expectantly as if he was waiting all night for the late Santa. Jihoon half-wondered how he appeared in the kid's eyes, a bulky white dude or maybe a tall, handsome elf.

"You're here! You're here!"

Jihoon cracked an awkward smile, not really used to warm welcomes, usually kids scowled at him for his tardiness in delivering gifts. But then again, Park Jeongwoo's wish was a peculiar one than most, and Jihoon still couldn't decipher the reason behind it.

"Hey, kiddo. Uh, mind if I come in?"

"Yes, yes!"

The boy tiptoed his little feet to turned the key and opened the door. His bob hair bounced in every movement he made, so fluffy, Jihoon couldn't help but slip out an endearing smile at the kid in the white and yellow pajamas. He wore a different color of socks, purple for the left feet and red for the right. Quite fashionable, Jihoon thought.

The Santa closed the balcony door behind him, while the giddy boy fetched something from his nightstand.

"Santa, Santa! My Papa prepared milk and cookies for you!" With unsteady feet -the object in his hands seemed a little too heavy for him- Park Jeongwoo brought the rubberwood tray with a plate of three homemade chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk on top of it.

Jihoon was quick to took the platter from the boy, "Aw, thank you, kiddo."

The Santa sat, in the middle of the room. The floor was covered with a white-grey faux rug similar to the fur of a wolf. The boy copied the only adult in the room, sitting on his heels while still hugging a doll.

Jihoon took a bite of the cookie, and startled to know the taste was good,

and familiar.

The Santa mulled over in his head, though he found no answer as to why. Maybe he ate it once when he was still a human?

"Where did your Papa buy these cookies?"

"Oh, he made them on his own, Santa! He's a good cook!" Park Jeongwoo exclaimed proudly.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow at the reply. That was strange, Jihoon thought, are they neighbours before, because after finishing a whole cookie, as he munched and munched, the Santa was fully convinced he ate them before, and quite often too.

But Park Jeongwoo had been staring wide eyes at him; blinking now and then, tilting his head a few times, studying the Santa's face with a half-opened mouth as if the one in front is a unicorn, magical and rare.

Well, the boy was not wrong about that.

So after a gulp of the milk, Jihoon started to get down to business, "So, Park Jeongwoo, isn't it?"

The boy nodded feverishly.

"You wished for a late Santa? Since I didn't prepare any gift at all."

"Yes! I wished for a Santa who came after Christmas."

Ah, this is the part where it piqued his interest, Jihoon thought with a finger on his chin. "Hmm. Why? Usually kids wanted their gifts to arrive on time."

Park Jeongwoo didn't answer right away; he looked hesitant. He dipped his chin down, pouted his lips, eyebrows knitted together, very deep in thoughts, too deep maybe for a child of seven-years-old.

Santa Jihoon was increasingly intrigued as seconds passed by, then the kid murmured, low, "But promise me you will not be mad, Santa?"

"Mad? Why?"

"Hmm..."

But the boy kept on being vague for some time, and Jihoon was getting impatient.

"Okay, okay, I promised I'm not gonna be mad, so tell me why."

"Hmm..."

Just as Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing and wanting to shake the answers out of the boy, Park Jeongwoo finally opened his mouth.

"Actually I wished for my Dad to come, not you, Santa."

An ache throbbed; it appeared, again, the moment Jihoon's brain processed the boy's words. The Santa froze like a statue, calm from the outside though deep down rattled, agitated, his mind trying to replayed memories and yet, like before, it was all damaged film rolls, burned by gasoline, an explosion in the streets, and it frustrated Jihoon to no end.

Jihoon flickered his gaze back to Park Jeongwoo, who was still explaining while playing the doll on his lap; round with pointy pink ears, holding pom-pom in both hands.

Wait. When did Jihoon see that doll before?

"My Dad was always late, like you, Santa. Papa won't tell me about him, but Grandma told me Dad was always late. But when he finally came, he gave me dolls. Like this one! Isn't it cute, Santa?"

The boy held out the doll, showing off to the Santa. But the other didn't need to see it to know it.

After all, Jihoon was the one who bought it.

The realization sent a shiver; the Santa was afraid, like a human, full of sin and regret. He was afraid of a memory of two blurred-faces figures, waiting for him in a living room. Though, one of them has been revealed,

Park Jeongwoo.

Jihoon gulped, throat parched even though he already drank a half glass of milk. He tried to control his breathing, clawing the fabric of his pants to hold the need to scream.

"Where's your Dad, kiddo?" Even Jihoon's voice quiver but he needed to know, desperately.

The boy shifted his eyes past the Santa's shoulder, to outside the window, "Grandma said he's in a place called Heaven, Santa. Somewhere very far up there. Grandma said I can't visit him yet. So I pray he visits me, instead."

The throbbing worsened; Jihoon hanged his head low, scrunching his eyes close, trying to calm himself down because the damaged film rolls in his mind, burned by gasoline, an explosion in the streets, angry calls and messages--

"Are you from Heaven too, Santa?"

Jihoon opened his eyes in panic, and gasped out loud. The boy, brimming with innocence and curiosity, simply looked at him, waiting for an answer,

waiting for a father.

"Yes," Jihoon let out a harsh breath; he felt suffocated. He shook his head, hard, then he noticed how the boy had stood up and run toward a nightstand. Small fingers grabbed a photo frame before striding across the room, back to Jihoon.

"Have you seen my Dad in Heaven? This is him."

It was like a mirror,

cracked and dusty and forgotten, yet still a mirror-- Jihoon thought, with heavy sorrow, as he stared

at his own photo,

cradling the boy, only a baby back then, with a man, shorter than Jihoon but lovely as ever, wearing a black blazer and ripped jeans, embraced tightly in his arms. They were happy and smiling and posing at the front yard of the house. They just moved in, after all, everything felt brand new and clean and intact before it all burned by gasoline, an explosion in the streets, angry calls and messages, because Jihoon was always-- late.

The round doll dropped to the rug below; Jihoon noticed the boy, _his_ little boy, took off the round glasses to rubbed his eyes, before blinking, like flickering street lamps, at Jihoon.

"Are you okay, kiddo?"

His little boy nodded, "Yes. Papa always said my eyesight is bad, even with the glasses on. So..." He put on the glasses again, before darting back and forth between Jihoon and the photo, all the while the crease between his eyebrows grew lower as if he was in the middle of cracking a puzzle.

Jihoon took it as his cue to clear the air, "Sorry, kiddo, I haven't seen him yet."

"Oh," His little boy looked disappointed, ducking his head down as his feet swayed the fur of the rug, playing with them absent-mindedly.

Oh, Jihoon wished he could tell his little boy, little Woo, everything.

Then--

"Can you tell him something from me if you see him?"

Little Woo fluttered his eyes back at Jihoon, though the earlier cheeriness was gone, replaced by bashfulness for the request.

Jihoon smiled, warm and wistful, "Sure. What is it, kiddo?"

"Hmm... tell him I missed him? Oh, tell him that Papa missed him, too!"

A thousand pictures of one man flooded Jihoon's mind; of black hair, supple cheeks, crescent eyes, pouty lips, soft skin, sweet kisses, bitter tears, angry calls and messages because Jihoon was always late, even on Christmas, five years ago.

"I once heard Papa crying at night, alone, saying he's very sorry he was angry at Dad on the phone for being late to our Christmas dinner. He said he's very sorry that Dad drove too fast and... crashed?"

Little Woo paused, lips curled downward, as if uncertain of the word he just spoke. So just like any child, he leaned at the only adult in the room.

"What's _crashed_ , Santa? Even Grandma won't tell me what it means."

Jihoon wished his lips were sewn tight so he didn't have to answer the innocent question of his own boy. But the one in Heaven blessed him with a functional mouth and a second chance; Jihoon understood now, why he was chosen as Santa, why he was given the new Nice Children list, why, as a Santa, he was always late too.

Little Woo's five-year long prayer had finally been answered.

So Jihoon suppressed the urge to break down and cried and asked forgiveness to his little Woo and hugged him and never let go--

"It means your Dad gone up to Heaven, kiddo."

Little Woo's mouth formed an 'Oh'. "Is Heaven... a good place?"

"Yes. It's a good place. Your Dad is probably doing just fine. Though, he's probably missing you and your Papa a lot."

"He is? That makes me happy, then!"

Jihoon chuckled, though his hand clenched so tight, the fingernails would break the skin if he was still a human, "I'm sorry I'm not the one you're expecting, kiddo."

"Oh, it's okay! At least you came late, like him! Other Santa came on time," Little Woo giggled, snatching the round doll from the floor and embraced it along with the photo frame.

Jihoon glances at the picture again, of them as a family.

Santa had another task to do before he leaves. After all, it wasn't just the kid who was waiting for the father.

Jihoon stood up to his feet, "Hey, kiddo, where's your Papa?"

"Hm? He's sleeping in his room."

Jihoon nodded, though his heart started pounding, nervous, it's been too long after all,

with death do them apart.

"You mind if you wait a little? I'm just gonna say Hi to your Papa."

His boy blinked, confused, "Oh. Okay. His room is--"

"Yes, I know. Be right back, little Woo."

A slip of a tongue;

Santa Jihoon didn't notice it, he was in a trance, mind too foggy with memories of his life as a human; of marriage with a partner he loved very dearly, even until now. So the Santa walked out of the boy's room, into the hallway,

unaware of his own kid, watching his back disappeared, swallowed by the shadows of the corridor. Because Jihoon might have not realized it, but the kid _did_ , little Woo did, he had been praying, after all, but he was born with bad eyesight and he was only two-years-old when the accident happened so his memory crystallized as tiny fragments, fractured and uncompleted, and his Papa won't tell him a thing to this day, so uncertain as he was, once again little Woo took off his big, round glasses, rubbed his eyes, put the glasses on again, and checked the photo in his hand.

Santa Jihoon might have not realized it or heard it,

but in the emptiness of a kid's bedroom,

came a whisper, timid yet hopeful--

" _Dad?_ "

-

It was a fool's errand, Jihoon knew,

but the knowledge didn't stop his feet to walk along the corridor; gloved fingers traced the baby blue walls Jihoon painted himself a month after they moved in.

It was a fool's errand, Jihoon knew,

but the knowledge didn't stop his eyes tracing the photos hanging on the wall, displaying moments of family togetherness at the beach, at the park, at their backyard as they celebrated little Woo's first birthday; balloons and confetti everywhere, the three of them wearing matching party hats, with little Woo seated on Jihoon's lap and his love carried the birthday cake.

It was a fool's errand, Jihoon knew so, _so_ well,

because no adult could see or hear Santa, but the knowledge didn't stop his hand to turn the doorknob of the room once was Jihoon's too.

Jihoon pushed the door gently and saw the love of his life sleeping on his side, under a white sheet,

alone.

After five years, his love was still alone.

So Jihoon concluded, as he closed the door behind, soft as he could, as soft as the other's breathing when he came closer and sat at the foot of the bed,

Jihoon concluded it was never a fool's errand when it comes to loving Park Hyunsuk.

-

"Hey, Sukkie."

There was no answer; Santa Jihoon propped both arms on his thighs, slouched over as he spoke to air and the cold furniture of the room. Nothing much changed; his eyes scanned the surrounding, it still left the same when Jihoon last saw them, five years ago, the noon when he got an urgent call to work on Christmas Day and never came back home again.

"How's life treating you?"

Jihoon asked the sleeping man with dark circles under his eyes; the Santa could even spot them even in the darkness of the room, only the light of the moon peeked through the curtain. Hyunsuk's cheeks were not as chubby as before, either from age or stress, and Jihoon hoped is not the latter. The white long sleeve tee Hyunsuk wore hid his body but Jihoon could notice the difference in weight. Though still healthy, but compared to the man chewing the pancakes Jihoon served on Christmas morning, Hyunsuk was much thinner.

"Can't believe little Woo can walk steadily now, Sukkie."

Because the last time Jihoon saw his boy was through a video, sent by Hyunsuk, when Jihoon was busy barking at his team to fix the bugs in their product or no one could go home. The video shown little Woo wobbling on his tiny, little feet, running around his bedroom in white underpants, laughing and avoiding Hyunsuk because little Woo didn't want to change his clothes yet, he wanted to play cat and mouse with his Papa instead, but it was almost 6 PM and they had a restaurant reservation for Christmas dinner at 7.

"I guess I'm late in knowing that. Like I do, in everything."

Jihoon bit his lips, because it started to tremble, and he wondered if Santa could shed a tear because Jihoon knew, five years ago, he should've stopped fussing over details and prioritizing customer's satisfaction over his family's when the clock struck 8 and Jihoon was still in the office and Hyunsuk was fuming over the phone because their food had gone cold and Jihoon still had the nerve to stopped at a toy shop and bought a doll because that was what he always did to ease their fights and win little Woo's heart, but Hyunsuk was still mad and calling every five minutes and angry texting so Jihoon yelled back and turned off his phone and drove too fast because he was late, late, late, Hyunsuk said, so Jihoon didn't see the speed limit or red lights or the truck that came from his right, crashing into his car hard, fast, deadly, before everything went--

white.

"I'm sorry, Sukkie, I'm so, so sorry," Jihoon buried his face on his hands, in anguish and sorrow for he had left his family alone and broken.

Jihoon was no Santa, he was a ghost; invisible to living beings, dead to the world yet clung to life desperately, with regret and empty apologies.

"I'm sorry I'm always late. Even when I'm a Santa, I still do. I'm sorry, I'm--"

"Santa?"

The call was almost as soothing as the sound of Heaven,

as Jihoon raised his head, very slowly,

and turned to his right,

and saw Hyunsuk, still rested on his pillow but now, looking back at him,

like Jihoon was no Santa or ghost,

but _his_ husband and alive.

-

Silence engulfed both parties;

Jihoon couldn't take his eyes off Hyunsuk, who was still drowsy from sleep but could see very clearly, thank you, that there was a grown man sitting at the foot of the bed.

Meanwhile, Jihoon was panicking, _terribly_. Both his eyes went wide as a pair of lemons because he positively remembered that no adult could see him, and he was in such despair seconds ago because of the fact, but now, Jihoon was dumbfounded and frozen from head to toe, gaping like a fish out of water.

Hyunsuk was no better, so as time stretched awkwardly between them, Jihoon forced himself to moved or talked for Heaven's sake.

"Uh, ah, ah-- ho? Ho, ho, ho!"

That might be the worst Santa impression anyone could ever do, even though the one who did it is a Santa himself.

"Well, hello there, h-- human! I'm Santa--"

"Hoonie?"

Jihoon immediately halted whatever nonsense he wanted to uttered as soon as Hyunsuk, now sitting properly, called Jihoon by a nickname he almost forgot it existed.

"Hoonie, is that you?" Hyunsuk asked again, frowning in bewilderment.

Jihoon was out of his depth; he was too baffled to answer. First, Hyunsuk, an adult, could see him, and now he could see Jihoon's real body as well? The Santa wished he had a hotline straight to the voice in the white room so he could directly ask what in the name of Heaven is happening before he lost his mind.

Hyunsuk was already ransacking his nightstand drawer in frenzy, "Oh, am I dreaming? I must be. Where's my medicine--"

It was on instinct when Jihoon crossed the space between them and touched the other's arm, wanting to calm the love of his life, "Wait, wait, Sukkie, Sukkie--"

But Hyunsuk instantly flinched, his doe eyes became bigger as he stared at Jihoon, shocked, "Oh, it can even _touch_ me now, I need to see a doctor--"

"Wait, Sukkie, I'm real, I'm real," Jihoon begged, holding both Hyunsuk's arms, just as Jihoon thought, they weren't as thick as the years before. Jihoon searched for the other's eyes, until the pair locked at his, asking Hyunsuk to saw Jihoon and Jihoon only.

"I'm real, Sukkie. I'm your Hoonie."

Jihoon whispered, gentle,

and Hyunsuk finally listened. The smaller man was panting, out of breath, from the earlier confusion, but at least now Hyunsuk's eyes, dark-brown and tired but always pretty, focused at Jihoon's.

"Hoonie? Hoonie, is it really--"

"Yes, Sukkie, how are you, babe? Lookin' sexy even with your drool on," Jihoon slipped out a chuckle, knowing he still got the juice.

But Hyunsuk was stunned, for a few moments, before snorted and looked so scandalised, "Oh-- Oh my God, it's _really_ you! No one ever _hit_ me like that except--"

"The Handsome, Dazzling Park Jihoon? Yup, I'm the man."

Hyunsuk gaped, couldn't believe his ears, and stuttered, "Are you-- are you a ghost? And-- why are you wearing a Santa outfit?"

"Well, long story, babe, but I'm a Santa now. Working for the one in Heaven."

"What--"

"I know, I know, must be hard to believe, huh, me, being a Santa--"

" _No_ , I can't believe you get into _Heaven_ in the first place!"

Now it was Jihoon's turn who appeared offended, "W-- What's that supposed to mean? I'm a great, nice guy!"

Hyunsuk rolled his eyes, "You pranked me throughout high school and college, you bully--"

"That's because I had a crush on you, Sukkie, you know that! I proposed to you after that!"

"Because I went on a date with your best friend _once_ , before you punched him in the face--"

"And he _deserved_ it! He made a move even when I told him I liked you for eight years already!"

Hyunsuk groaned and let out a weak glare at the other, "Oh, you were always _late_! Late for classes, late for meetings, late on telling me about your feelings--"

"But in the end I _did_ , didn't I? I told you everything," Jihoon sighed, recalling his youth filled with denial and drama, "I asked to be your boyfriend. Then, married you. Adopted little Woo with you. Then--"

Then it stopped, life _stopped_ for Jihoon.

And they both knew the end of the sentence so no one spoke for a long while; Hyunsuk, with his bed head, lowered his gaze to the white sheet, before Jihoon lifted them with an overdue apology.

"I'm sorry, Sukkie--"

But Hyunsuk shook his head, "No, it was my fault--"

"No, Sukkie--"

"I shouldn't be angry back then!"

Hyunsuk sobbed, tears streaming one by one; it broke Jihoon's heart to know even in death, he still could hurt the love of his life.

"I know you always love your job and I know you always bought dolls first for little Woo, but because of me, you--"

"No, Sukkie, stop it--"

"It was my fault, _my_ fault--"

"Sukkie, look at me--"

"No, no--"

_"Sukkie!"_

The arms under Jihoon's grip quivered, Hyunsuk was crying over grief and guilt and Jihoon would grovel in front of the voice of Heaven and offered himself to stayed in Hell instead if it made the tears go away.

So Jihoon leaned closer, until their forehead touched, and Hyunsuk cried harder so Jihoon embraced the smaller man; arms locked around his shoulders, letting his cry wet the red clothes. Hyunsuk immediately clung to Jihoon's chest, pouring all the longing and mourning buried for five years.

Jihoon nuzzled Hyunsuk's head, inhaling the scent of his lover, sweet and melancholic, as he whispered, "I love you, Sukkie, I will forever do, even now when death do us apart. Everything that happened was on both of us, so stop blaming yourself, please. We're only humans," Jihoon pulled back a little, brushing Hyunsuk's wet cheeks, reassuringly, "I'm fine. See? I'm fine. Just take care of yourself more, please, and little Woo. I'm sorry I couldn't be by your side, but now, every Christmas, I can be here."

Jihoon gave a peck to Hyunsuk's forehead. His hand didn't stop caressing the other, from his supple cheeks to his fluffy hair, until Hyunsuk calmed down; the sobs lessened and the harsh breathing soften.

When he did, Hyunsuk snuggled deeper into Jihoon's nook of the neck, and for minutes, there was nothing but comfortable quiet,

as the couple, separated by death, finally reunited.

"Hoonie?"

Hyunsuk's voice broke the silence.

"Yes?"

"But Christmas is yesterday."

Oh, the fragile, lovey-dovey moment they shared just shattered to pieces; Jihoon pulled Hyunsuk away by the shoulders, cocking an eyebrow, " _Really_? You too?"

But Hyunsuk looked so disappointed like an Asian parent when his child got an A instead of an A+, "How come you're _still_ late even where you're a Santa?"

Jihoon groaned, then glared at the smaller man, which the other replied with an amused smirk, even when the skin around his eyes and nose flushed red. Actually, it made him cuter.

"You know, what-- come here, let me shut you up," Jihoon cracked a sly smile and brought Hyunsuk back into his arms, "Come on, give Santa a kiss."

Hyunsuk couldn't help but snort, too cheesy, but unlike those romantic Christmas movies when the lead actor dressed up as a Santa, Hyunsuk's late husband had become a Santa. So he giggled and tipped his chin up to meet Jihoon's lips.

They kissed, after so long, and it was tender and sweet. Jihoon savoured the softness of Hyunsuk's lips, chewed his bottom lips lightly before kissing them whole again. Hyunsuk circled his arms around Jihoon's neck, fondling the blonde hair under the red cap, and oh, how he missed them. Hyunsuk opened his mouth and Jihoon plunged into it like a diver, exploring reefs and corals, wetting and tasting the natural beauty before his oxygen tank ran out.

As they part, Hyunsuk, cheeks and lips pink and luscious as peaches, gazed at Jihoon half-lidded and in a daze, "You're real."

Jihoon chuckled, giving the other an eskimo kiss, "I am."

Hyunsuk smiled, tightened his hold around Jihoon's neck, murmuring words against the Santa's lips, "I miss you, _so_ much."

"Me too, Sukkie, me too. Always."

Hyunsuk rested his head on Jihoon's shoulder while the other rested his chin on top of Hyunsuk's head. Both enjoying each other's warmth and presence,

until Jihoon caught a glimpse of the empty side of the bed, tidy and cold, making him recalled the earlier feeling that bloomed in his chest when the Santa first stepped inside the bedroom.

"I'm surprised you still sleep alone. It's been five years."

Contrary to the intention, the sentence formed like an insult,

because Hyunsuk became tense in the blink of an eye and shoved Jihoon away, glowering dangerously, "You think it's _easy_ to-- to love again after--"

"Hey, hey, I don't mean it like that, it's just--" Jihoon tried to take a hold of the smaller man but Hyunsuk struggled, stubborn as he was, so Jihoon mustered a bit of strength just to seized the other's wrists and kept him still, "Sukkie, listen to me. It must be hard to raise a kid alone. I just want you to be happy."

But Hyunsuk snarled, "I _was_ happy, when I'm with you."

"I know, I know. I'm happy too. And now I can visit you and little Woo. Every year," Jihoon wets his lips, chest felt a bit heavy but he needed to get the words out, Hyunsuk needed to hear them because he and his boy deserved to be happy again, "Even if you decided to love somebody again--"

"No, Hoonie, no--"

_"If_ , Sukkie, even if it comes to that, I still gonna visit, y'know? I'm a Santa, after all. I'm supposed to bring gifts and happiness to you and little Woo. No matter what." The Santa joined both Hyunsuk's hand together and raised to his lips, kissing each finger, one by one, before murmuring against the skin, "And seeing you both happy, it's the best you guys can give me in return, more than the milk and your cookies."

The intention was finally delivered, Santa Jihoon gift's for Hyunsuk; an acceptance if the other chose to share his life with someone else.

But Hyunsuk was stubborn, he always was,

so Jihoon should've seen the fatal pout of lips gracing Hyunsuk's face that had been bringing men and women to their knees, Jihoon included, as Hyunsuk scowled unfairly adorable, "Best return gift, huh. Even more than my kisses?"

So much for kindness, Jihoon groaned; he was a citizen of Heaven now, he had an image to uphold,

but then again, being _simply_ nice was never Jihoon's trait.

"Okay, okay, _with_ the kisses, then," Jihoon finally admitted. He latched a hand around Hyunsuk's waist, yanking the other closer until their nose touched, "Santa here gonna steal a _kiss_ when your new husband is sleeping."

Hyunsuk brighten up instantly; round cheeks as he smiled and giggled, "Are all Santa this naughty?"

"Nope, just Santa Hoonie~"

Jihoon brought their lips together again, both grinning and kissing at the same time, they couldn't pick one, the couple was feeling too happy and giddy at the moment, but in the middle, Jihoon sucked Hyunsuk's lips, and the other whined, then it became a clash of passion,

before a small cry interrupted them.

" _Ah_! Santa Claus is _smooching_ Papa!"

Both jerked in surprise and pulled away at the same time.

Hyunsuk stared past Jihoon's shoulder, gasping for breath as he called, "Little Woo!"

Then Jihoon felt something hit the back of his head, soft. He quickly turned around and found the round doll, laid on the bed after being thrown by an angry little Woo as he stomped his little feet on the carpet.

"Stop smooching my Papa, Santa! Nobody but Dad can smooch my Papa!"

"Believe me, your Dad is over the moon right now," Jihoon playfully rolled his eyes away.

Hyunsuk let out a chuckle before getting off the bed and carried little Woo into his arms. The kid was quick to latched to his Papa, all the while still pouting at the Santa. Jihoon couldn't help but teased the boy; sticking his tongue out as he joined them.

But little Woo kept on staring at Jihoon, squinting his eyes, then blinked, a few times, before turning to his Papa, looking quite upset, "Papa?"

"Yes, little Woo?"

"I think my eyes are getting more bad," The boy did the routine of taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. Jihoon was getting more accustomed to his boy habit now that he had seen it a few times this night alone.

Hyunsuk frowned, "Really?"

"Yes, Papa," Little Woo put his glasses back before pointing at Jihoon,"Because I see Santa has Dad's face now."

Jihoon was left paralysed, mind racing fast as it skimmed over the rules of being a Santa but what happened tonight didn't follow most of them, what made tonight different, Jihoon thought.

Hyunsuk on the other hand only offered a slight raise of an eyebrow since the man didn't know the circumstances at all.

But then, something dawned at Jihoon, as he felt the fluffy texture of the round doll in his hand and remembered the doll was one of the gift, one of many, not from a Santa but from a father, to compensate his late arrival.

"Here, kiddo," Jihoon inched closer while giving the doll back to the owner. Little Woo took it but not before studying the Santa's face one more time, pouty and confused with that bob cut hair and big, round glasses.

Jihoon repressed a laugh; as a Santa, he had met thousands of children all over the world, but Jihoon swore, on his life after death, no one is cuter than his kid.

"Hey, can I ask you a question, kiddo?"

Little Woo nodded.

"Do you think your Dad is a Santa?"

In an instant, Little Woo broke out a grin, "Yes! Santa gives gifts, so does Dad! Dad is a Santa too because he always gave me dolls whenever he came home late."

Jihoon hummed; it was all the result of Jihoon's gifts and little Woo's imagination. So some of the rules weren't broken, after all, though, it didn't explain the other broken ones. Maybe he should give the boss a holler back in Heaven.

But Jihoon counted his blessings first, murmuring under his breath, "Well, at least I'm glad I'm not being seen as a random white guy by my own kid."

Hyunsuk turned his head, curious, "Something you wanna tell me?"

"Hm, it's not really important, maybe next year."

"That's quite a long time, _Santa_ ," Hyunsuk nudged the other's hips, coyly.

Jihoon was quick to capture the small body, lowering his head as he whispered, with hope, "But you'll be waiting, right?"

"Of course, we both always do," Hyunsuk smiled, cheek to cheek, so beautiful _,_ Jihoon just _had_ to plant a series of kisses across the other's face before the clock struck midnight.

But tiny hands stopped him in the middle, tapping Jihoon's cheek in protest, "Heeey, I said stop smooch smooch my Papa!"

Hyunsuk snorted a laugh, while Jihoon, half-irritated full-amused, moved to kiss the boy's cheek instead, "Nope, gonna smooch smooch you too~"

"Eeeew!"

Jihoon's attack was so fierce, when he finished, little Woo's glasses were wonky and tilted weirdly. Both Jihoon and Hyunsuk couldn't stop giggling even if they _actually_ tried. 

But any minute now, 26th would be over and thus, the drowsiness called Jihoon's once again; the time for his long slumber was near, Jihoon needed to part from the living and ascend to Heaven. 

Jihoon exchanged a look with Hyunsuk,

one that was full of love and promise,

as he stepped back -their fingers slowly detangled from each other- until his back hit the bedroom balcony door, before saying his final goodbye.

For this year.

"'Till next Christmas, then, Sukkie."

"You mean the day _after_ Christmas?"

Hyunsuk answered, bright and cheerful, like the star on top of the Christmas tree,

and that was all Jihoon ever wanted;

happiness for the loved ones he left behind.

-

When his red sleigh lifted in the air, glided out of the flat roof of his former house, Jihoon looked over his shoulder to the two figures on the second-floor balcony, waving at their Santa.

"Be late next year too, Santa Hoonie!"

"Bye-bye, Santa!"

Jihoon grinned and waved back, even until the house became a dot amongst others.

As he steered Rudolf and its cousins through the windy sky of Seoul, Jihoon prayed, which was quite redundant since he was already a permanent resident of Heaven, but he did,

because even in death, there were still mysteries as to why Hyunsuk even recognized him earlier, but after a while, as the landscape of the city at night changed into space, as Jihoon crossed the thermosphere into the exosphere and be greeted with the scenery of billions of planets and stars, then suddenly, life on Earth was just _small_ compared to all of that, so of course there were always going to be mysteries beyond Jihoon's comprehension, thus it was not Jihoon's place to questioned them, but instead, accepted the goodness out of them and said--

"Thank you."

"Your welcome, son."

_-_

Once upon a time, there lived a Santa who was always late in delivering Christmas gifts. Instead of December 25th, the Santa, who was known as Santa Hoonie now, came down the chimney the next day instead, December 26th. But it didn't matter if he's late as long as he comes, because there was always a house waiting for him.

And if we peered into the opened window, we see a Santa, with a man and a kid locked in his arms, and they all laughing and slow-dancing to the Christmas carol for years to come, happily ever after,

in life and in death.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by many Christmas stories that I remember scantly since it's all jumbled up in my head, but there's one clear reference for the overall mood and tone, which is [Klaus](https://www.netflix.com/title/80183187), an absolute recommend Christmas movie for those who haven't watched it.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed Santa Hoonie, Sukkie, and little Woo! 
> 
> Take care, happy holiday, fam💙
> 
> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


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